


Missing Pieces of the Book of Kells.

by amorremanet



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Biblical References, Community: comment_fic, Crack, Emotional Manipulation, Fluff, Footnotes, Historical, M/M, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-25
Updated: 2009-07-25
Packaged: 2017-11-03 22:34:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/386724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amorremanet/pseuds/amorremanet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How pieces of a certain book came to be entirely lost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Missing Pieces of the Book of Kells.

"It's not exactly comprehensive, is it?"

Aziraphale looked up from his codex and bristled. His face turned a shade of purple that has never yet been replicated elsewhere1. "I haven't any idea what you mean by that."

Crawly2 emerged from the shadow in the corner and came to hover over his angelic counterpart. What the angel was doing here in a monastery was beyond him. It certainly didn't seem to be fitting with their ostensible purpose being around here, but the angel probably thought it was keeping with his Boss's ideas for things. Ineffability and all that. Besides that, monasteries had books. Gingerly, Crawly fingered the vellum pages, being very careful not to touch any of the paint.

Aziraphale yanked the codex away quite suddenly. "Don't _touch_ it!" he chided in hushed tones, lest any of the brothers hear him.

"Testy, _testy_ ," Crawly sighed wearily, as though he hadn't expected a different reaction3.

"Really, my dear," Aziraphale pointed out, quickly, as though he was attempting desperately to cover his arse4. "I'm merely speaking out of concern for Brother Patrick. After all, he picked up finishing it after Brother Adamnan fell too ill to do so. It's a testament to the entire abbey that they finished it at all, let alone so well."

"Fair enough," Crawly acquiesced. "And I'm merely saying that the abbey isn't that far from town, and, sure, Kells isn't _Dublin_ , but they've plenty to enjoy. What are they going to name this hulking monstrosity anyway?"

Aziraphale stared at Crawly as though he'd professed his undying love for the Almighty. "...The Book of Kells."

"Oh." Crawly paused, fingering the side of the codex once more. "Makes sense, doesn't it? ...Doesn't make it any more comprehensive, though."

"I still haven't any idea what you mean by that, my dear."

Crawly rolled his serpentine eyes. "Come off it, Angel. You were right there with me when the Son got crucified, and I'm betting you remember all the different Gospels of So-and-So, Letters of Saint Paul to the Wossnames, and Prophetic Visions of How's-your-mother that cropped up afterward. I got thumbing through that while I was waiting for you, and it doesn't even have half that stuff. I mean, where's the Apocryphon of John, or the Gospel of Mary Magdalene? What happened to Paul and Thecla? And what about the Gospel of Judas?"

Aziraphale paled and pursed his lips. "It doesn't need to be comprehensive as long as they got the message right."

"But those works were inspired too; I remember you talking about them! How can the message be right if they're missing more than half--"

"Besides that, those books aren't considered _canonical_ , my dear. A few of the humans took it all to a committee quite some time ago and decided what was and wasn't part of the _true_ Bible. It was all quite official, really."

"Oh," Crawly said again. "Must've slept through it. Just woke up for the first time since Constantine, oh... maybe forty years ago? When we first moved up here?"

Aziraphale wrinkled his nose. "You slept through quite a few centuries, my dear."

"I like sleeping. And so it goes." Crawly scratched behind his neck. "Don't suppose it helps you any to know I didn't glean it was a Bible at first? What with the pictures being so nice, and the words being all in Latin when I last heard them in Greek... I opened up to John and it just didn't click until he got off his whole 'in the beginning, there was the word' business and talked about the Son himself."

Perhaps it was unbecoming, considering his station, but Aziraphale couldn't help but give the demon a pitying look. "...You've never seen a real Bible before?"

"Nope... this is my first." Looking Aziraphale in the eye, he asked, "I don't suppose I could get you to let me keep some of it? For nostalgia's sake?"

"...Keep some of it?"

"Please, Angel?"

Aziraphale humphed thoughtfully, pouting and pretending not to let the look on Crawly's face get at him. Perhaps the humans wouldn't miss a few sections from the book...5

——————————  
 **1:** Except, naturally, on Aziraphale's face, when he is feeling particularly surprised by Crowley.

 **2:** For, as yet, he still hadn't found a name that was truly _him_ and was, thus, stuck as Crawly. Given the novelty of and varying groups within the insular environment in which he and his angelic counterpart had found themselves, he had been experimenting with names of late. A certain village in what would come to be called Hertfordshire, for example, knew him as Durwyn, son of Druce, but he, himself, was fond of neither the Anglo-Saxon naming system nor names beginning with the letter D. A similar village in Scotland, situated around a hill overlooking what would soon be known as the Inner Hebrides, knew him as Crannog, son of Creighton, which was closer to what he liked, but bore the distinct disadvantage of not applying to him anywhere outside of Scotland. On a particular ship of marauding Norsemen that enjoyed harassing Sussex on otherwise fine spring days, he was Grimkel, the Irish recognized him as Cruadhlaoic, and the Welsh merely knew him by a name which roughly translates to, "That Outlander Who Is Not Quite As Useful As A Sheep."

 **3:** He hadn't, but still, it was really rather distressing.

 **4:** He was.

 **5:** They did, but it didn't make any difference. Any records of the completed manuscript seem to have suffered a mysterious "fire-related accident," and most people are of the belief that it wasn't ever finished in the first place. Considering that Crawly proceeded to lose his pieces, find them again, use them as a pillow, lose them, find them once more, and finally shove them between two books he "never got around to reading," it's better for humanity to believe the lie.


End file.
